


Do You Even Love Me?

by Fandoms_Are_Life37



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: "Tsundere" my ass. That's bullshit and here's why, 2020, America loves McDonalds, American Southern Border Wall, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Break Up, Brexit, Brothers America & Canada (Hetalia), COVID-19, Canada is adorable and I love him, Confronting the issues with tsunderes, Coping, Coronavirus, Current Events, Dark Humor, Flashbacks, Historical References, I love and adore USUK but I'm sick of it being portrayed in an unhealthy way, I need an outlet you guys, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, M/M, Pandemics, Reunions, Road Trips, They're such messes, This starts out with low-key political commentary, Tsunderes, UKUS, USUK - Freeform, United Kingdom Brothers, Warning: Donald Trump, World Meeting (Hetalia), Yaoi, and he deserves better, but it has a happy ending, fight, it's all very sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:07:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24633568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fandoms_Are_Life37/pseuds/Fandoms_Are_Life37
Summary: America struggles to feel secure in his relationship because England is a tsundere. It doesn't go well.
Relationships: America & England (Hetalia), America/England (Hetalia)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 67





	1. The 'Why'

**Author's Note:**

> Word count: 5,448
> 
> Estimated read time: 30 minutes. Plus, this a four-part story. Check the time, friend. Is it late? Do you have to get up early tomorrow? If so, go to sleep because the estimated read time for the whole series is 1 hour and 30 minutes.

England was always a prickly person. He didn't show his emotions easily and when he did, he was almost always angry.

Take the last world meeting, for instance.

_"This is ridiculous!" Germany said. "You are all overreacting."_

_France rolled his eyes. "I think I am being perfectly reasonable."_

_"Reasonable? Your entire country is shut down!" England pointed out._

_He shrugged. "So? Italy's country is shut down, too."_

_"Don't bring Italy into this," Germany snapped._

_"Vee~ Pasta!" was the only response from Germany's boyfriend._

_Canada meekly raised his hand. "I think it's good to slow the progress of the disease. The elderly, infants, and immunocompromised are very vulnerable, so-"_

_"Oh, shut up, Canda. No one cares what you have to say," Mexico snapped._

_America gasped. "Don't talk to my brother like that! You officially have given me a reason to declare war on you. Also, I don't want any more of your exports."_

_China rolled his eyes. "America, you can't just declare war whenever you're offended."_

_"Besides, your people would have a fit if they didn't get avocados," Mexico pointed out._

_He huffed. "Fine. But I'm going to glare at you for the rest of the meeting."_

_"Ah, yes. Glaring. Even more offensive than the literal fifteen-meter wall along your southern border. You've hurt my feelings greatly, America."_

_"Joke's on you because I don't know what a meter is," America returned, looking very proud of himself._

_"Oh, for heaven's sake, America. You and your imperial system," England complained. "It's equivalent to a yard-"_

_America waved his boyfriend off. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. I like inches."_

_"Why are you such an insufferable brat?" England hissed. "God, you spend every meeting talking about yourself and pretending that the rest of us don't have problems and sticking your nose in everyone else's business and damaging the environment with your stupid-"_

_"I'm not listening," America stated. But he was, in fact, listening._

_The European shook his head. "I give up. Fine. Just sit there and pout like a petulant child."_

_"Can we get back to what this meeting was actually about?" China asked, annoyed. Back in his prime, he never had to go to unproductive meetings. He just did whatever he wanted. Being old sucked._

_"I agree with China," Japan interjected. "We need to discuss the COVID-19. There have already been over 6,500 deaths and our children aren't even getting an education right now."_

_America frowned. "What's wrong with online school?"_

_The whole table groaned and England shook his head. "Honestly, you and your education system. You fail your citizens every single day with that bloody ridiculous curriculum. You know that, right?"_

_"I-"_

_"And now you and your shoddy health care is killing them. You have had four times as many cases as I have and significantly more deaths."_

_"It's not my fault Trump fired the Pandemic Response Team!"_

_"He's your boss."_

_"You think I'm any happier about that than you are? I have to listen to the guy talk for hours! At least I know which unions I belong to, Mr. Brexit."_

_England looked so angry he might burst. "We're working on it!"_

_Germany rubbed his temples to try to soothe a budding headache, but it was useless. The entire world was in chaos._

_"Germany? Are you okay?" Italy asked._

_"Yes, yes, Italy. Thank you. Ich leibe dich."_

_Italy grinned. "Ti amo."_

_No one else seemed to be paying attention to them, so Germany took Italy's hand and led him out of the meeting room. It wasn't like any progress was going to happen, anyway._

_Japan rested his head in his hands and tried to block out the yelling. It was all very stressful and he was missing the calm of his home._

_China got the room under control and sat down with a chilling look in his eyes. "Good. Now that you are all listening, we need to face the facts. Over 3,000 of my people are dead. So what are we going to do about it?"_

_"We could kill America," Russia suggested. That was his solution to pretty much everything._

_England chuckled. "Sounds like a good idea to me."_

_"I CAN DO IT!" Came an eager voice. Everyone turned to look at who had spoken. "I can. Wanna know why? Huh?"_

_"Shut up, North Korea, you're so annoying," Romano said._

_"But don't you want to know? Don't you? Ask me. Ask me what I have. Do it. Ask me. Go on. Please. Ask me!"_

_France rolled his eyes, indulging him. "Alright, fine. What do you h-"_

_"It's a bomb." He grinned and bounced a little in his seat in excitement. "It's a bomb. That's what it is, guys."_

_All the other countries thought about their weapon arsenals and how many nuclear warheads they had._

_America, knowing full well that he had over 4,000, tried to keep a straight face. "Okay, North Korea."_

_"Whatever you say, North Korea," Russia added._

_Mexico joined, too. "That's nice, North Korea. Now can we please focus?"_

_England shrugged. "If America can stay on topic."_

_America stood up. "Hey! Iggy, that time wasn't even my fault!"_

_"Shut your burger-munching mouth, sit your fat ass down, and listen to everyone else. It's not that hard. And how many times have I told you not to call me that?"_

_Arms crossed and grumbling under his breath, America sat down._

Or there was two weeks ago when America had been making England some tea and it went poorly.

It had been early morning and he wanted to do something nice for him, so he went to England's kitchen and put the kettle on the stove.

_Contrary to popular belief, America knew how to make tea. He used to be England's colony, after all. But when he got England's tea set off the shelf, he came in the room, yawning and startling him. The set crashed to the ground, shattering everywhere._

_England's face went red. "America!"_

_He winced. "Sorry! I didn't mean to-"_

_"God, you are such an idiot! You never pay any attention to your surroundings, you don't listen, and you break everything you touch!"_

_"I'll clean it up," He volunteered, hoping to calm him down._

_"No, you'll just bugger that up, too. I'll do it."_

_His eyes fell to the floor. "Then what do you want me to do?"_

_"Leave. Go play hockey with Canada or something. I need some space for a few hours."_

_"I don't play hockey with Canada. He gets all murderous and-"_

_"That wasn't the point, you moron! Just go away!"_

_Realizing that leaving was probably the best option, America nodded and slipped out the door without so much as his phone. He called goodbye to his boyfriend, but England didn't answer._

He spent the rest of the day at Canada's, watching movies and playing with his polar bear. When he came home that night, their normally caring sex was very rough. Not that America minded, and it wasn't exactly new, but it was an unexpected change of pace.

When they were done, he didn't receive any aftercare. Now **that** was new.

Or there was last weekend. That one was much more low-key, but for some reason, it stood out to America.

_They were laying on the couch, England with his head on America's shoulder, when America gave him a kiss on the temple, saying, "I love you."_

_England, blushing, replied, "Shut up."_

That wasn't out of the ordinary. America knew England was something of a tsundere, as Japan would say (in his own home, they mainly called people like England dicks, but that didn't sound as nice), but it was getting to him lately.

Their relationship began sometime in the late 17th century but resulted in a nasty break up during the American War of Independence. England had taken it worse than he had. He was destroyed when America left him.

More conflict began in 1812 when America tried to liberate his brother from British rule and while it wasn't as emotionally painful as the revolution, America could still see his capital burning in nightmares that plagued him from time to time.

They'd been fraternizing, once could say, since the Shimonoseki War when fighting together bonded them. But back then, it was just to distract themselves and never discussed. They didn't even talk before or after, both would just show up and leave just as quickly they arrived.

Then came the Boxer Rebellion. They established a friendship and had become what one could call 'friends with benefits' at that point.

It was getting more serious during the first world war. England even told him to stay out of it at first, not wanting him to get hurt. But eventually, that wasn't a viable option and they ended up in the trenches together, closer than before.

Just before World War Two, they deemed their relationship official and stopped keeping it secret. Technically, it wasn't very secret during World War One, either, even though they tried to be inconspicuous.

From there, it just got better as they fought various wars together and grew closer. It was difficult to pinpoint a time when their relationship was at its best. Probably once the War on Terror started.

The kindest England had ever been to him was in the days following 9/11. He sat at his bedside and kissed away his tears, whispering soft reassurances when he broke down until America could breathe again.

It was also hard to point out when their relationship started going downhill. Probably somewhere in 2008. The economy was suffering and it was easy to blame America. He had a hand in causing it, but he wasn't the only one responsible for it. England didn't care.

But it was only recently that his cold attitude began bothering America. He knew that England expressed love oddly. I hate you meant I love you. Shut up meant kiss me. You're an idiot meant I care about you. That's ridiculous meant you're adorable. Things like that.

America reminded himself of that when it upset him. England loved him. He knew he did. Or, he thought he did...

He supposed that hearing things like that everyday for over a century would begin to rub anyone the wrong way. But he shouldn't care because when England said he hated him, he didn't mean it.

Right?

Last time England told America he hated him was when they were driving through the state of Ohio to get to LA.

They could have taken a plane, but America said that it would be fun to take a road trip. America had been blaring Bruce Springsteen over the car's speakers, driving and jamming out while England complained about the choice of music from the passenger's side seat (that was another thing he didn't like: driving on the right-hand side of the road and having the driver sit in the seat on the left).

_"Come on, Iggy, you know you want to sing with me!" America had said with a smile._

_England shook his head, going back to his phone. "No, I most certainly do not. And don't call me Iggy."_

_"Please?" America begged, using his puppy-dog eyes._

_But England wasn't swayed. "I hate you."_

_"I love you, too."_

_That night, at the hotel, they were cuddled together and England was asleep while America thought. He wanted to sleep, too, but he couldn't._

_He peppered kisses on England's face until he stirred. "Wha...?"_

_"Iggy, I can't sleep."_

_England groaned. "You woke me up, you wanker! And you used that blasted nickname."_

_"Sorry. I'll be quiet. You can go back to bed."_

_"You? quiet? Impossible." England muttered, shutting his eyes again and falling unconscious._

The time before that was also in the car. They were in London because England said that New York was a grotesque city with far too many people for it to be considered decent, so America was staying with him in his homeland.

_America's stomach growled. "I'm hungry."_

_"You're always hungry."_

_"Where's the closest McDonald's?"_

_England shot him a look. "We are **not** going to McDonald's."_

_"But we ate where you wanted the last four times," America whined, "I haven't had a decent burger in days!"_

_Rolling his eyes, he surrendered. "Fine, but you're the worst and I hate you."_

_"Yay!"_

And before that... Well, America wasn't sure when the time before that happened. It was either when America forgot to do the dishes or when he didn't have any Euros with him while they were staying in Paris.

So to say that England was a tough egg to crack would be a severe understatement. Supposedly, America was the person he loved most, and even he rarely heard him say 'I love you.'

The other countries, if asked, always believed that England cared about him.

When America was in a bar with Spain, America had cracked a joke. Something about even England hating him.

_Spain had burst out laughing, but when he stopped, it wasn't at the joke. "America, that's the craziest thing I've ever heard. England is **completely** in love with you."_

_"Huh?"_

_"Look, I've known him way longer than you have. So trust me when I say that he adores you. He wouldn't put up with you otherwise."_

Put up with him. Was that what their relationship was? Even if he hated everyone else and decided that he tolerated America, that still didn't strike him as being a good thing. Was he above everyone else? Yes. But it wasn't even 'like.' Just 'put up with,' as Spain had said.

Or there was this time that the elevator broke and he ended up stuck in it with Germany for hours, during which, each opened up and they became much better friends.

Germany had talked about the guilt he felt over his past and how he didn't know how Italy could love him. America had understood, explaining his situation with England.

_"America, America, America," He tutted, smiling. "England is head over heels for you, as they say. Don't worry about it."_

Easier said than done. Worry ate him alive. But when he tried to bring it up so that they could talk about it... well... it never went well.

_"Britain? Can I as you a question?"_

_England, who was sipping tea and reading the paper from his armchair, didn't look up, despite noticing that he called him Britain, which he only did when he was being serious. "You just did."_

_Alfred chuckled nervously and sunk onto the footrest in front of the chair. "Um, it's about us."_

_"What about us?"_

_He hesitated._

_"Spit it out, America. What?"_

_England looking at him was suddenly worse than him looking at the paper. His piercing green eyes that normally took America's breath away were cutting and harsh._

_"It's just that I've been kind of worried."_

_"About what?"_

_"Well..." Another pause, but he kept going when England was about to urge him to continue. "The way we talk. More like the way you talk."_

_"What's wrong with the way I talk?" England demanded haughtily._

_America sighed. "Nothing, it's just that... you... you're so mean all the time."_

_"Mean?" England repeated, raising a brow. "Are you serious?"_

_Based on the evasion of his eyes, England realized that he was._

_His gaze softened and he set his things down so that he could take America's hands and squeeze them tightly. "America, darling, look at me."_

_He did as told (not all that surprisingly- England was really the only one he listened to despite their history) and watering blue met sympathetic green. "Yeah?"_

_"I'm sorry if you've been feeling that way. I guess I thought you knew that I don't explicitly state my feelings for you often or-"_

_"I do know. It's just been feeling weird for a while now."_

_There were multiple things England felt the urge to lecture him on. First that he interrupted him and second that he had been keeping this secret for a long time. Openness and honesty regarding serious matters were their policy because they realized that they could have solved many of their issues if they had just talked about them before they reached a tipping point._

_But England didn't comment on it. He was guilty of the same crimes and it didn't feel like the right time._

_"Alright, then. I'm sorry, love. I'll... I don't know... try to do better." England said, giving him a small smile and a remarkably gentle kiss that left America feeling floaty and light inside._

_America sniffed and pulled one of his hands away to wipe his eyes, letting it fall in his lap when he was done. "Thanks, Iggy."_

_Reflex and habit kicked in. England found himself saying, "Don't call me that."_

_America took his other hand back. "Sorry."_

_He cringed. "No, I'm sorry, America. I shouldn't have said that at a time like this. I didn't mean to."_

_"It's fine, seriously. You've asked me a million times not to call you that. I should have listened."_

That was the last time America referred to him by the obnoxious name and England found himself missing it. He didn't say that, though. America would never call him by his real name if he knew that England actually enjoyed his silly nickname.

England was nicer for a while. America could tell and appreciated that he was making an effort, but old habits die hard and soon they gradually sunk back to the same spot they were in.

But lately, things had been much worse.

They got into an argument when England yelled at him for leaving his laundry on the floor- one of England's biggest pet peeves. And he wouldn't stop yelling, either. America apologized at least five times, but he either didn't hear them or didn't want to.

He spent the night with Japan to give his boyfriend time to cool down. All they did was hang out, but when he came home the next morning, England was livid- even more so than he was the night before.

_"Where the fuck have you been?" He demanded._

_America winced. Here we go again. "Japan's house. Why?"_

_"Japan? You stayed the night with fucking Japan?"_

_"Yeah. You were upset about the laundry, so-"_

_"Oh no, don't you dare turn this back on me," England shouted."You're the one in the wrong here!"_

_He backed up a bit. "Look, I know you're mad about the laundry, but this seems like an overreaction."_

_"Laundry?" England spat. "Laundry? Christ, you really think I'm that stupid, America?"_

_"I- I don't understand."_

_"You! Staying with Japan! Honestly, I should have known. You're always out and about. You talk to him at every meeting, stay at his place for hours..."_

_The realization hit America like a freight train. "Wait, no, it wasn't like that. We just played video games and talked about horror movies, I swear!"_

_"We have one argument and you run off, crying to Japan. Even if you aren't doing anything with him, that's still absurd."_

_America felt the stress building up and then it started spilling as he cried. "I'm sorry, Britain. I didn't know that you thought that... I'm so sorry."_

_England advanced and America found himself instinctually moving back. England noticed and stopped approaching, hurt building in his eyes, too. "Whatever. It's in the past. Just go feed that goddamn whale of yours. We have a meeting to get to."_

_But England wasn't always like that. There were times when America wished he could freeze everything and live in that moment forever and ever, and there were more of those than there were ones where he felt unloved._

_England brushed the sweaty hair that stuck to America's forehead aside and kissed him softly before pulling the covers up over them. "Tired?"_

_He nodded and they tangled themselves together, both falling asleep._

And what about the way he kissed him? When his lips were sealed to England's, he felt like he was on cloud nine and everything was just... **right.** There was love in those kisses- he could feel it.

Or when he took care of him. England made him breakfast often, and even if it was normally burned, it was very nice of him to take the time out of his day to do it.

_America finished eating and put his plate in the sink before sitting down at the kitchen table with England. Early morning light filtered through the curtains, falling on them both while the latter drank his tea._

_"You're beautiful," England said out of the blue._

_"What?"_

_"I don't know. The thought just came to me. Don't let it go to your head."_

_America smiled at him. "Thanks. You're not so bad yourself."_

_"I know."_

_They both laughed._

And how could he forget New Year's Eve a couple of years ago in Time's square? That night was absolutely magical.

_England looked adorable in his tightly bound scarf, gloves, and knit hat. His arm was looped in America's and he was smiling, his eyes sparkling as they reflected the city's lights. He didn't even complain about the smell and chaos of New York like he normally would._

_"What time is it?" England asked._

_America got his phone from his coat pocket. "11: 58. We only have two more minutes. Although, I guess it's already 2018 in your country."_

_"Doesn't make this any less special, though," England said. "And I think I'd be willing to do this again."_

_"Really?" America asked, grinning. England never wanted to be in New York for New Year's and despite America's whining, this was the first time he actually agreed to go._

_England rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth were twitching up into a smile. "Yes, really."_

_The countdown began and they both went along with it, shouting with the crowd._

_"5! 4! 3! 2! 1!"_

_America didn't see the ball drop. He pulled his boyfriend in for a kiss in the whirling January snow and the cheering mass of people. If this was the way it started, 2018 was going to be a wonderful year._

And each milestone in their relationship was fantastic.

The first time they kissed had been on a ship. Back then, America was still England's colony and he was accompanying him back to his homeland because he didn't want to be left alone. That was also back when England was the same height as him, so it wasn't hard for America to swoop in and press their lips together at the bow of the ship under a starry sky with the ocean crashing behind them. When they separated, England had barely been able to stutter out a response, he was so surprised, but he was blushing and smiling, expressing his feelings better than words could, anyway.

Their first time together (and America's true first time) was beautiful. England held his hand every step of the way, giving him the most tender kisses they'd ever exchanged and soft praises against his flushed skin to calm America's nerves.

Things like, 'Yes, like that. You're doing great, darling,' 'I love you so much,' and 'You're amazing, America.'

And he found that he had no reason to be nervous about it because England was... Well, he was England, and more importantly, he was his.

Even the first time they fought was good because it wasn't a serious argument, and when they reconciled, they ended up being awake all night, laying beside the fireplace with their fingers locked together, talking about what the future could hold for them.

But did that outweigh snippy remarks and constant belittling? Was America reading too much into it? Was he overreacting?

This was just who England was. He couldn't ask him to change for him. And America was supposed to love every bit of him- the good and the bad. Right? Or at least be willing to cope with the bad because of how much he loved the good. So he did cope- for centuries.

But didn't think he could cope much longer.

He was right. And suddenly, he wasn't living in the past anymore. It was now, it was painful, and it was everything he never wanted to happen.

America kicked off his shoes when he came in and hung up his coat, sliding across the wood flooring in his socks to get a snack from the kitchen.

"America!" England called.

He shuffled back into the foyer. "Yeah?"

England glared at him and pointed to the shoes. They were laying on the floor haphazardly with some mud getting on the rug that was supposed to be for that exact purpose, but England wasn't having it.

"You left your shoes again. I'm not your mother nor your maid. I swear, you never clean up after yourself. Living with you is like living with an animal."

America tossed the shoes into the basket beside the door, but with England's last statement, he felt himself snap. "Then why are you living with me?" 

He blinked in confusion, unsure what to say except, "What?"

"I asked why you're with me!" America yelled. "Every single day you find something to complain about, something that's wrong, and some reason to belittle me! You're always so angry and you take it out on me and everyone around you. But that's not fair! I try so hard to make you happy because I love you but nothing I do is ever good enough!"

One of his hands went to his face, swiping at his damp cheeks while England stood there, baffled. What do you even say to that?

They were silent for a very long time before England spoke. "You know I'm not good at just saying what I feel. That's... That's just how I express it."

"So what? I do my best to accommodate you and all your needs. I never discuss politics at home because you said that work should stay at work even if something is bothering me. I try to do nice things for you all the time even if it's difficult. I'm always giving to you, whether it's gifts or my time or changing my life to make things easier for you, all to make you happy. Would it kill you to give me some kindness or respect? Would it really be so hard not to tell me you hate me all the time? Would listening to me be that horrible for you?"

England felt some anger of his own building up. "Respect? Listen to you? Why should I when you act like a child all the time? Let's be real here, America. The majority of what you say is irrelevant or stupid anyway! Maybe you're the one that should try to be less annoying!"

"See? Nothing is ever okay with you! You don't like the way our relationship is- admit it!"

"It sounds like you're the one that doesn't like it so much!" England shouted back. His throat felt tight and he knew that tears were brewing in his eyes.

"I want to! I love you, England! And I'm trying. I'm trying so hard to be what you need me to be, but..." His voice cracked and trailed off. "But if you want someone to use as a punching bag and for the occasional hookup, I can't be that for you."

England grit his teeth, now crying, too. "Is that what this is to you?"

"No. But it seems like that's what it is for you."

"Of course that's not what it is to me!"

"Then why do you treat me like shit all the time?" America fired back. He could feel his hands shaking and he clenched them to try to make them stop.

"I don't!"

"Yes, you do! I hate you, America," He mimicked, "You're so annoying, America. Go away, you're bothering me, America."

He tried to stutter back a response, but he found that the words were caught in his throat and he could hardly make sense of what he wanted to say, anyway.

America's chest felt tight and his need for air was obvious as he kept going, crying more and more. "Then you turn right back around and you're nice. And, fuck, the worst part is that you're good at it!"

"W- What do you mean?"

"You're good at convincing me you care about me! If I dropped dead tomorrow, would you even care?"

"Of course I would!"

"You know what happens when you call me, England? As soon as I see who's calling, I dread picking up because I never know what version of you I'm about to face. Is it the you that kisses me and tells me he loves me? Or is it the you that's going to yell at me about whatever global problem is happening? Or maybe it's the you that talks real slow and quiet, exhausted and fed up with me, not even bothering to yell and just guilting me into everything? I shouldn't feel anxious every time I pick up."

"I... I didn't know that you-"

"How could you expect anything else, England? How could you expect for me to be okay after you've been insulting me daily for centuries? But I always end up forgiving you because you're so damn good at apologizing and convincing me that you didn't mean to make me feel so upset. Do you know what that is, England? That's manipulative. That's textbook for a toxic relationship."

"I'm not trying to-"

"It doesn't matter! Because I tried to fix it. I tried to tell you. And you didn't actually do anything differently."

A sob broke through England and he rested a hand on the wall to try to steady himself. Nausea was swimming in his stomach as he listened. "America, I-"

"And god forbid I actually do something right! Because if I succeed, you always find some way to tear me down whether it's telling me not to be too proud of it when I wasn't doing anything narcissistic in the first place or pointing out how I could have done better."

"It wasn't my intention to-"

"And it hurts, England! It fucking hurts! I always seem to end up here while you're doing something with one of your friends, sitting right there," He pointed to the floor right in front of the door, "and crying because I can't even make it upstairs and I've been biting back tears all day, so I just collapse. And I feel so lonely, even if you're right beside me because even if you're there, you're not. You're just not."

Finally, his rant came to an end and America waited, quiet, while England gathered his thoughts. 

England could hardly meet his eyes. "America, I... I'm sorry. I never wanted to make you feel bad. But you know I love you and-"

"Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Love me. Do you even love me?" America whispered.

The silence that fell felt suffocating and England pressed a hand over his mouth, a horrified sob slipping through. All this time, England thought he knew. But he didn't. How could he doubt it? How could he ever doubt his love?

"Of course I love you. God, America, how can you even say that? I love you more than anyone else. You're... You're everything to me." England walked over to America, cupping his face in his hands to look him in the eyes and wipe away the tears that were still streaming down his face. "Darling, you're my whole world."

America squeezed his eyes shut and took England's wrists to removed his hands.

England stared at him fearfully. "A- America?"

"I'm sorry," America whispered, reopening his eyes. "I... I love you. I love you so, so much. But that's not enough anymore. I can't do this."

England's stomach dropped as America released him and brushed past him to go to the door of their house. He reached out, panicked, and grabbed his wrist, tugging to make him stop. "No. No, no, no, America, please. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, just please don't go."

"I have to."

"No, you don't. I can change. I'll do better, I swear! Just give me another chance."

"I can't."

The tears became unstoppable as England clutched him tighter. "America, don't! I love you; I mean it! I love you and I'll make sure you know it. I'll tell you every day and treat you how you deserve to be treated. Just... please don't leave me."

America gently took England's hand off his wrist and, with pain in his eyes, opened the door. "I'm sorry, but I can't do this anymore. I'll ask Canada to get my stuff this weekend."

"Wait-"

"Goodbye, England."

"No! No, Ameria, wait, stop! AMERICA!" He screamed, voice breaking.

But the door fell shut, he was gone, and England fell to his knees, sobbing into his hands.


	2. England

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> England (unsuccessfully) copes with his new reality after the breakup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word count: 4,335
> 
> Estimated read time: 24 minutes. This is part two of a four-part series. Including this chapter, the estimated read time for the rest of this series is 59 minutes. If it's late, get some sleep!
> 
> Warnings: Strong language, a lot of angst, implied sexual content, and Coronavirus/COVID-19 (Don't forget to cover your coughs, guys)

March 18, 2020

England had spent at least an hour crying on the floor in the foyer before he could stumble to his feet and get to the couch. 

Canada came by that weekend, just as America had said. He arrived with a checklist America had made and a pen. It was so... official. A checklist? England could hardly imagine America sitting down and organizing all of the things he owned into a checklist complete with little boxes for his brother to check off. 

"Is he okay?" England asked quietly when Canada was done collecting America's things. 

He sighed sympathetically, shifting a box in his arms to rest against his hip. "Upset. But he'll be alright. And you will be, too, with time." 

"Thanks, Canada." But he didn't believe him. 

On his way out, Canada paused, looking back at England, who had deep dark circles under his bloodshot, dry eyes that stared back, so full of loss that it was hard to look at. "If it makes you feel any better, he loves you. Really." 

It didn't. If anything, that made it worse because that meant that England had screwed up so bad that America left even when he loved him. 

Before Canada came, England had gone into America's closet and taken two of his shirts and one of his jackets, which he hid under his mattress so that he could claim he didn't know where they were and hold on to a piece of America even after he was gone. 

Canada didn't press the issue. He knew what probably happened to them, anyway, and America told him that if he couldn't find something to just leave it, it didn't matter.

The shirts and jacket were all that kept England together. They still smelled like America and so after Canada left, he put them in a small box under the bed so that they retained their scent. 

Clutching them or slipping America's jacket on (even if it was too big) somehow comforted him and made him feel sadder at the same time. 

In those days following the breakup, England realized just how much he took for granted when America was his. He missed him so much that he felt like he was dying. If he was upset back then, America would have held him and stroked his hair and kissed him until he was okay again and then gone out of his way to make England's life easier in the days following. But he wasn't there and England had to deal with it himself. 

America's social media was quiet for the first week and a half before he started posting again. England watched him live his life in photographs and wished desperately that he was there and that things were okay. 

He would have called America, but every time he looked at the call button on his contact in his phone, he would remember what America had said to him about when he got calls from him and would start to cry all over again. 

Instead, he sent texts. 

Thursday, March 5, 7:46 PM  
England: America, this is fixable. I know it is. Can we meet up somewhere and talk?  
Delivered.

Saturday, March 7, 6:07 PM  
England: Hey, I guess you didn't see my last text. I'd like to meet up so we can talk about this. You can pick where we go. Even McDonald's and I'll buy  
Delivered.

Monday, March 9, 9:52 PM  
England: America please answer me. I want to make things right.  
Delivered.

Thursday, March 12, 10:41 AM  
England: Darling, please. I love you so much, just let me have the chance to show you. I miss you.  
England: Dinner?  
Delivered.

Monday, March 16, 2:00 PM  
England: America I swear none of this was my intention, I love you and I always will.  
Delivered.

None of them were ever answered and eventually, he gave up, realizing that America probably blocked his number.

Once, he went to Canada's house, knowing that was where America would be staying, but Canada was the only one home and he told England not to come back- that it wasn't good for him or for America. He was right, no matter how much England wished he was wrong, so he went home. 

Never in a million years would England have guessed this would happen. Maybe he shouldn't be surprised considering what happened during the Revolutionary War. But that would have been fine if England had just listened to America sooner. He would have gotten representation in Parliament and, at worst, he'd break off to be his own country but there would be no fight and they could still be together. 

He supposed that if he had listened to America, this wouldn't have happened, either. America's concerns could have been resolved and he could still be with him. 

"Damn it, England," He whispered to himself. "Why didn't you just listen? Why couldn't you just fucking listen?" 

World meetings came and went but England didn't show up. It wasn't until he had missed four that he got a call. 

England was laying on the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling when his phone rang. He flinched and immediately dove for it. Who was it? Was it America? Was he willing to talk things through? 

The screen showed a picture of Hungary smiling and his heart sank but he slid his thumb to the right to pick up. 

"Hello?"

"England! Oh, thank goodness! We've been so worried. I mean, America told us that you guys..." She trailed off. "Well, anyway, it's good to hear your voice. And, um, well, we recognize that you're probably not feeling your best right now, but we kind of need you back. At the meetings, I mean." 

He knew that's what she was calling about, but hearing it still made his chest tighten. Go to work. It sounded so easy, but he couldn't even go from the couch to his bedroom. 

"Thank you for your concern," He replied. "But I don't know when I'll be returning to our conferences." 

She sighed. "England, look. I'm really sorry about what happened between you and America. Truly. I don't know much about it- America wouldn't talk about it much; he said he didn't want to make you upset if he discussed your private life- but you have to get out of the house eventually. And the world isn't complete without you." 

England hated that she was right. He was a leading power, he couldn't abandon the conferences no matter how much he wanted to. 

"Alright. I'll be at the next one, which is... uh..." 

"Today in five hours." 

"Five hours?" He exclaimed. He hadn't expected it to be so soon. 

She didn't hear his alarm. "Yep! See you then!" 

The line went dead. 

Five hours. England had five hours to pull himself together. There was so much he needed to do within that timeframe. He hadn't showered, eaten, or changed since America left, which about two and a half weeks ago. Being a nation, the lack of self-care wasn't as consequential as it would be for a human, but after so long, even he was in pain. 

Shakily, he got to his feet and shuffled into the kitchen. Inside the pantry was an assortment of food. It seemed that Canada hadn't collected America's snacks because brightly colored boxes of cereal, bags of chips, and other snacks were still on the shelves. 

It made him feel worse to see them. American marketing- just as vibrant as the nation's personification. Without that radiance, though, the whole house felt dark. 

_America grabbed a package of cookies and put them in the shopping trolley._

_"That's the fifth one you've put in there," England stated._

_"Sixth, actually."_

_He added another one before heading down the aisle, England sighing and following, pushing the trolley. "Are we going to get anything... I don't know, healthy?"_

_"Sure!" America picked up a package of Oreos. "Look, they say, 'Reduced Fat!'"_

_"Okay," England said, surrendering. Besides, America's smile was cute when he scurried along, scanning the shelves._

_"Is the cart full yet?"_

_"No, but it's getting close. I'm pretty sure if the apocalypse happened, we'd be able to survive for at least five years on all this."_

_America laughed and tossed two boxes of Cheez-Itz in. "Then consider this responsibly preparing."_

England grabbed a small bag of pretzels and started eating them on his way to his bedroom. The hallways felt longer than normal and when he reached his dresser and chest of drawers, his head throbbed. 

His clothes were inside, so he put together an outfit and trudged into the bathroom, leaving the pretzels on the counter while he showered. 

It seemed that Canada had forgotten America's shampoo. 

_"Mango Pineapple Berry Blast?" England read from his boyfriend's shampoo bottle._

_America took it from his hands and squirted some out, rubbing it between his hands to make suds. "Don't knock it 'till you try it. Here, see how good it smells!"_

_He held out his hands. England had to admit, it did smell good, but he just shook his head, smiling and pressing a kiss to America's lips. "Whatever you say, love."_

England picked up the shampoo bottle, squeezing some into his hands and working it into his hair while he bit back tears.

As soon as his shower was over, he toweled off and was impressed by how much stench a simple shower could wash away. 

He got into his clothes and sighed, grabbing the pretzels and deciding that his hair didn't need combing. It could be messy for all he cared. 

Back in his room, he flopped down on the bed, exhausted, despite hardly doing any work. 

_America grinned, bouncing on the mattress a little._

_England rolled his eyes and sat down next to him. "You're adorable."_

_"You're adorabler," America answered._

_"That's not a word."_

_He shrugged. "It is now."_

_"You and making up words. I mean, honestly, who calls prams 'strollers'?" England teased._

_He laughed and tackled England down onto the bed. "Says the one who calls diapers 'nappies'."_

_"French fries," England retorted, letting his fingers tangle in America's hair and smiling up at him._

_"Nosh."_

_"Pantyhose."_

_"Courgette."_

_"Eggplant."_

_"Candyfloss."_

_England furrowed his brow. "What's wrong with candyfloss?"_

_"It's not floss."_

_"Well, it's not cotton, either."_

_America shrugged. "Yeah, but it looks like cotton."_

_"Seems like a reach to me."_

_He gave England a quick kiss. "Hmm. Well, you also say 'starkers,' which is the dumbest word for naked that I've ever heard."_

_A small grin crossed England's lips. "We could be starters right now, you know."_

_The look was returned by America. "Sounds bloody blinding to me."_

_"Just shut up and kiss me."_

_"Gladly."_

England pushed himself up out of bed. He had a meeting to get to and reminiscing about the past wouldn't get him there. 

He got into his car and flipped the radio on, but when he heard America by Imagine Dragons, he turned it back off. The universe really did have a sick sense of humor. 

The conference building came into view after a fifteen-minute drive and he pulled into the car park and turned the engine off. Looking at it made him feel sick. Was America going to be there? 

Of course he was, why was England even asking? 

To steady himself, he took a deep breath and got out of the car, locking it behind him and heading inside. 

He was on time, so America wasn't there yet. As soon as he entered the conference room, though, he groaned. How could he forget the seating arrangement? 

A plaque reading, 'The United States of America' sat right beside 'The United Kingdom- England.' Stupid alphabet. 

On his left was Northern Ireland, closer to the front, who looked relieved when he saw him. "Oh, England! We've been worryin' about'cha." 

Scotland, between Northern Ireland and Wales, interjected. "No, you've been worried about 'im. 'E can go fuck 'imself for all I care." 

Wales smacked his arm. "Don't be mean." 

"Yeah? Whatcha gonna do 'bout it, huh, Wales?" 

England took his seat and tried to ignore his brothers as they argued. Suddenly, he envied Ireland, Northern Ireland's twin, who was closer to the front of the room between Iraq and Isreal since he had the sense not to be part of the UK. However, once he realized that Italy came after Isreal, blabbing on and on about pasta, he changed his mind. Even if he was beside his ex, anything was better than Italy and his passion for rigatoni. 

Germany was leading the meeting, like always. His seat was empty as he was at the podium, clearing his throat to bring order. The room was quieter, but still not at peace. 

He cleared his throat again. "France, would you kindly stop flirting with Gabon and pay attention?"

 _"Désolé,_ my bad!" 

"Thank you. Now, today's schedule says that China is presenting first, so-" 

The door swung open and slammed shut as America ran in, sitting down in his chair. "Sorry! My alarm didn't go off!"

Germany rolled his eyes. America had a different excuse for each meeting. Sometimes they were good, other times they were not. Considering it was 4 in the afternoon, this was one of the times it was not. 

_"El tonto,"_ Mexico grumbled. England didn't speak a ton of Spanish, but he knew tonto meant idiot. 

Normally, such a remark would have gone unnoticed, but today was anything but normal.

England glared at him. "Shut up, Mexico." 

"Yeah? You wanna go, _hombre?_ Let's fuckin' go!" 

Germany groaned. "England, Mexico, please-" 

"You sure you want to?" England challenged, standing up. "Even with such a pathetic economy? I'll crush you." 

"Oh, you've done it now!" Mexico declared, pushing his chair back. "I'll kill you, you pompous _carajo!"_

Spain got up. "Whoa, whoa, everyone, calm down! Mexico, sit down." 

Mexico scowled. "Like hell. Big brother nor not, you're not in charge of me!" 

"I'm neutral!" Switzerland declared, unprompted. 

Austria laughed. "Well, there's a surprise!" 

Lichtenstein, surprisingly, got to her feet. "Leave my big brother alone!" 

"Awww, I'm so scared! A little girl!" 

"What the fuck did you say to Lichtenstein?" Denmark yelled.

All chaos broke loose as people began arguing over everything from wars that happened centuries ago to current leaders and which was ugliest. 

England probably would have punched Mexico if Spain hadn't physically put himself between them and Germany hadn't gotten everyone back under control by shouting at near-deafening volume. 

He glared at the assembled countries. "Sit. Down." 

Everyone sank into their seats nervously. Germany was scary when he yelled. 

"Now. China, you're presenting first. The floor's all yours." Germany declared and marched back to his seat next to Ghana, who slunk away from him when he came back. 

China brushed himself off and strutted to the podium, clearing his throat. "Thank you. I have a few announcements to make. First, I have decided to expel American journalists from my country in response to President Trump putting restrictions on the number of Chinese workers that can go to work in the US." 

England opened his mouth to protest, but America beat him to the punch. "I understand, China. I'm sorry about that, by the way. It wasn't my idea." 

"I know. I'm discussing things with my boss and I'll see what I can do to help you out." 

"I will, too." 

The exchange startled everyone. Typically, America would have started arguing and saying something about Communism whenever he and China had a disagreement. 

China continued. "Things are beginning to go back to normal in my country, but we are facing aggression on a global scale over what President Trump has dubbed the 'Chinese Virus.' Hate crimes against my people are intensifying, especially in the US. I'd like to discuss what will be done to prevent further attacks." 

"That's a wonderful point, China," said Japan. "I've noticed the hostility, too." 

"Thank you," China replied stiffly. "So? Any ideas? America?" 

America sighed. "Many Senators, Congresspeople, and I are spreading anti-xenophobia ideas and advertisement as much as we can, but with a President pushing a racist agenda, it's difficult. I'm really sorry about what's happening and I promise I'm working on it." 

The sincerity and seriousness in America's voice were evident and England kind of felt proud of him for stepping up to the plate and conducting himself well at the conference. He didn't say that, of course, but the thought crossed his mind. 

Italy presented next, pausing his rant about linguini to discuss the COVID-19 death toll in his country. After Italy was Afghanistan, discussing middle eastern issues, followed by Zimbabwe, who talked about the water crisis and world hunger, and Greenland, who had a lot to say about climate change and the fact that the ice caps were melting six times faster than before. 

It didn't exactly make England feel better, and it became even worse when he tried to get America's attention after the meeting, but Canada engaged him in conversation and he slipped out before England got the chance to talk to him. Somehow, he had suspicions that it was planned. 

The second he got home, he slumped against the door and slid to the ground, crying. Seeing America had made everything so much harder and he was struck with what America had said about being in the same position as he was currently in, which tugged at his heart. 

He tried to think back, find a moment to hold onto. When was the last time they hugged? When was their last kiss? When was the last time America had rolled over in bed and smiled at him, wishing him good morning and pulling him in by the waist?

He couldn't remember. He hadn't been paying attention. Why would he? As far as he knew, he and America were fine and each of those occurrences was so normal that it slipped right by him. 

England made it to his room and found himself sitting on the floor beside his bed, wearing one of America's t-shirt under his jacket and crying into its sleeves. 

_England got off the plane and headed down the tunnel to the airport, pulling his suitcase behind him and sighing. It had been a long flight from London to Washington D.C. and he was exhausted._

_"England!"_

_He looked up to see America running toward him, beaming, ecstatic._

_"Hello, Amer-" He was cut off when America crushed him in a hug and a desperate kiss._

_They pulled back and England couldn't help but smile. "I missed you."_

_"I missed you, too," He said, stealing another kiss, unable to stop grinning._

_"I didn't know you were going to be at the airport."_

_America laughed. "Of course I'm here, Iggy, you're my boyfriend."_

_England blushed. "Don't call me Iggy. Come on, I have to get my baggage from the baggage claim."_

Thinking back, England wanted to scream at himself. There wasn't a day that went by when he didn't miss hearing that stupid nickname. 

He rested his head on his knees, inhaling America's smell and weeping. "I miss you so much... I'm so sorry... I'm so sorry..." 

The worst part of it all was that this was England's fault. If he had listened, if he had paid more attention, if he had just told America what he meant to him, he would still be here, and better yet, he'd be happy. 

To think that the shattered look in America's eyes when he left was his fault, to think that he was the cause of all those tears, to think his words were what was wrecking him... It was all too much. 

He'd hurt America. 

It sickened him. It was the last thing he ever wanted to do, and yet, he'd done it without even knowing. 

"And yet, you did know," said a small voice in England's mind, "You knew. You just didn't want to face it; you denied it and pushed it away so that you didn't have to think about it." 

_England lounged on the couch, reading a Charles Dickens novel. America was between his legs, resting his head against his chest and playing a video game. The click of his controller had long ago stopped annoying England. When he heard it so often, it just became background noise that he didn't notice anymore._

_He flipped a page and America said, "I love you."_

_England blushed. "Don't be so sentimental, America."_

_"But I do- I love you."_

_"Shut up," England replied, trying to suppress a smile._

_America turned off the TV and set his controller down._

_Noticing, England raised a brow. "You were in the middle of a game and you didn't save, you know."_

_"Why do you always say that?"_

_He slipped his bookmark in and sighed in irritation. So much for peaceful reading."Say what?"_

_"Shut up. Whatever. Hush. Quiet. Go back to your game, America," America answered, quoting some of England's most common responses to his declarations of love._

_England shrugged, face reddening in embarrassment. "I don't know."_

_"But you do love me, right?"_

_"Of course I do, you git."_

_America rolled over onto his stomach and propped himself up on his elbows to face England. "Then why don't you say it back?"_

_"I do!"_

_"Not often." America wasn't smiling, which was odd. He was almost always smiling. "It kind of hurts my feelings."_

_"What does?"_

_"When you don't say it back and when you get all mean."_

_Guilt crept up inside him. "I'm sorry, darling. I'll do better. What can I do to make you feel happier right now?"_

_He shrugged and laid down as England wrapped his arms around him, tracing small, soothing circles on his back. "How about I tell you?"_

_"Tell me what?"_

_"How much and why I love you."_

_"Oh." America paused. "That sounds nice."_

_England chuckled a bit and smiled. "I love you more than anyone else. More than the whole world, to be honest. You're my first priority, always. As for why I love you- I love you because you're so kind. You help anyone that needs it, you give more than you get, you always lift people up when they're feeling low, and other things like that. I love you because you make me happy. Your smiles are contagious, you always know what to say to cheer me up, and you are always there for me when I need you."_

_He could feel America's smile and, just as he said, he couldn't help but smile, too, without even seeing America's face._

_"Let's see. I love you because you do what's right. You fight in every single one of your wars even though, as a nation, you don't have to because you won't abandon your people. If there's injustice, you don't hesitate to call it out. Even when it hurts you, you stand firm in what you believe in. Your ideals don't sway and you'll defend them no matter what. That was a kind of bravery I'd never seen before I met you. You... You're a hero, America."_

That could have been a turning point. He could have taken what America said to heart that day and everything could have been okay. But no. He'd corrected his behavior for a while after that. But he'd forget, and then he'd forget a bit more, and a bit more, and a bit more until he was saying and doing the exact same things that he'd been saying and doing before that conversation. 

He needed to try harder. And at the time, he never could have imagined that slacking off would cost him America. If he had known he'd lose him, if he had known how much it was hurting him, if he knew what it was doing to their relationship- he'd never have forgotten or been lax on what America asked of him. 

But that wasn't an excuse. Because if America came to him with his heart on his sleeve, expressing himself honestly and bringing his attention to something that was hurting him, it shouldn't have mattered what England thought would happen. He should have changed his behavior immediately and kept it that way. 

Then they could have avoided that horrible day in the foyer. 

There were a few parts of what America had said just before he left that kept England up at night. 

_"Would it kill you to give me some kindness or respect? Would it really be so hard not to tell me you hate me all the time? Would listening to me be that horrible for you?"_

And later, _"I hate you, America," He said, imitating England, "You're so annoying, America. Go away, you're bothering me, America."_

Of course, it wouldn't kill him to be a better boyfriend (and just a better person in general). And America was right. Most of the things England said to deflect attention from talking about his emotions were aggressive. He just didn't realize how aggressive until he heard them out of America's mouth. 

_"I'm trying so hard to be what you need me to be, but... but if you want someone to use as a punching bag and for the occasional hookup, I can't be that for you."_

God, that part was nauseating. America actually believed that was what he had become to England, and that was terrible because it couldn't be further from the truth. 

If he had a say, England would let the universe burn before he let America think that. 

_"If I dropped dead tomorrow, would you even care?"_

He'd kill himself. 

_"How could you expect me to be okay after you've been insulting me daily for centuries?"_

He was right- England was an idiot. 

_"Do you know what that is, England?"_

Just what America had said. Manipulative. But he never meant to be. 

_"I feel so lonely."_

He didn't want him to feel that way. 

And then there was the worst one of all. 

_"Do you even love me?"_

England pulled his knees in closer, whispering, "Of course do. I'm so sorry, America. I'm so sorry."


	3. America

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> America also copes with the aftermath of leaving England. He does a much better job than England. Also, Mattie is there so we get some brother bonding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word count: 4,575
> 
> Estimated read time: 25 minutes and this is only part three of four. Including this chapter, the rest of the series is estimated to take 35 minutes. Make good decisions regarding sleep, guys.
> 
> Warnings: Strong language, a lot of angst, implied sexual content, Coronavirus (physical distancing, guys)

"AMERICA!" England screamed, voice cracking. 

The front door shut. 

America released a breath he didn't know he was holding. It came out shaky and unsure and he realized that his whole body was trembling- his knees felt like they were going to give out at a moment's notice.

What was he going to do now? Where was he going to go?

Part of him begged him to turn around, go back inside and wipe away England's tears, kissing him and apologizing a thousand times over. But a slightly louder part knew that he couldn't do that. 

So he put one foot in front of the other and walked down the sidewalk and driveway to the car. Then, he paused. Driving. He was in no mental state to drive. What if he wrecked? Even if he would likely be okay and certainly survive, he could kill a human. 

He'd have to walk. But where? 

Canada's house wasn't far. He should go there. Duh, obviously- his brother's. That was where he needed to go. 

Disoriented, he started going North. He didn't remember most of the walk. It was all a haze. He was pretty sure a lady walking her dog stopped and asked him if he was alright, but he didn't respond. 

America rang Canada's doorbell and a few moments later, his brother opened the door. 

He looked at America and his eyes widened. His brother had a destroyed look in his eyes, disheveled clothes, and when he looked at Matthew, it felt like he was only half there, as if he were in a world of his own. 

"America?" Canada asked, startled.

"Can I come in?" 

Nodding, he opened the door wider. "Of course you can. Are you okay?" 

That was a stupid question. Clearly, he wasn't, but Canada wanted to hear what America said. 

"No." He stepped inside and Canada noticed he didn't have shoes on. 

He'd always say he was fine. Even after some of the greatest tragedies his country faced, he'd always say he was alright, even if Canada knew that wasn't true. 

"Go sit down on the couch," Canada instructed as he went to his kitchen to make some hot chocolate. That always made America feel better and he'd often said that Canada's hot cocoa was the best he'd ever had. 

America did, wringing his hands distractedly and trying to calm down. 

The kitchen and living room were right next to each other and didn't have a wall dividing them, so Canada was able to keep an eye on him and ask, "What happened?" 

"I, uh, I broke up with England." 

Canada sighed heavily. America had been talking about their issues for a while now. He'd advised America to do what was best for himself, which was likely walking away. But that was at least three weeks ago, so this came as a surprise. 

He poured the hot beverage into two mugs, bringing one to America and sitting down on the couch beside him. "Why?" 

America took a sip of his drink. "I just... snapped. He was just talking about how I never put my shoes away and then I burst and started yelling and I- I don't really know." 

"Shh," Canada soothed, rubbing circles on his back. 

"God, he... he begged me to stay and he was crying and I was crying and it was so horrible; it was so, so horrible!" 

Deftly, Canada took America's mug from his shaking hands and put it on the coffee table, realizing that he wasn't far from dropping it. "It's okay, 'Mer. It's over now. You don't have to do that again." 

America burst back into tears, falling into Canada's embrace while he held him and murmured reassuring things. 

Being in Canada's arms was nice. He was wearing a sweater and he smelled like maple syrup and home. If there was one person who made a good shoulder to cry on, it was his brother. 

And maybe he didn't have much, but at least he had Canada. 

***

America sat back in his chair. "Okay. I think that's pretty much everything." 

"It's a pretty short list," Canada remarked, picking up the checklist of things to get from America and England's- well, he supposed, just England's now- house. "Thanks, though. That'll make it a lot easier." 

"Yeah. If you can't find something, you can just leave it. I don't need any of the food." 

"You? Not wanting food?" 

He shrugged. "It's mostly cereal and snacks, but you make pancakes for breakfast every morning so I don't really need them." 

"Are you sure that you'll be okay if I leave?" 

America nodded. "I'll be fine. But I want my superman pajamas back." 

Canada laughed. "Alright. I'll be back soon." 

He left with a stack of cardboard boxes and walked to their old house. America was endlessly grateful to have such a good brother. There was no way he could have faced England again so soon. 

An hour and a half later, Canada returned with boxes of America's things in the back of America's car, which had still been parked in England's driveway since Wednesday when he left.

"He asked about you," Canada mentioned as he helped America search through his things for a fresh set of clothes. He'd been borrowing a couple of sweaters from Canada's endless supply, as well as pants and other things. In that time frame, he'd decided that he didn't hate sweaters. In the past, he'd refused to wear them, claiming they were itchy. But the ones in Canada's closet were incredibly soft and very warm. 

"He did?" 

"He just asked if you were okay." 

"Oh. He texted me after you came back." 

"What did he say?"

America pulled out his phone and went to his messages. "Well, on Thursday, he wanted to meet up and I didn't answer. So then he said, 'Hey, I guess you didn't see my last text. I'd like to meet so that we can talk about this. You can pick where we go. Even McDonald's, and I'll buy.' Free McDonald's, Canada. Maybe I should take him up on his offer."

Canada laughed. "Yeah, maybe. In all seriousness, though, do you want to talk to him?" 

"No," America admitted, slipping his phone back in his pocket and searching for a matching sock to the one in his hand, "I don't think I have the stamina to hear any more. I'll change my mind." 

"Do you want to change your mind?" 

America shrugged. "I love him." 

"Do you think it's wise to change your mind?" 

He paused for a moment. "No. But all's fair in love and war." 

"Actually, we're both members of the United Nations, so according to International Humanitarian Law, in wartime, there are a lot of rules, so-" 

"It's an expression. Do you think I should block his number?" 

"I think you should do whatever you think is best. Oh, and I need to tell you- if you don't want to look for a new apartment or house or whatever, I'd be happy for you to move back here." 

America's face lit up. "Really?" 

"Yeah, of course. You're my brother."

***

America had nothing of England's to reminisce with, but he would spend hours scrolling through pictures of the two of them. Looking at them used to make him happy, but now he just felt sad, knowing that he didn't have England anymore. 

"This is your own fault, America," He whispered to himself. "You did this. You left him." 

Sometimes, he'd wake up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat after the image of England crying and pleading with him resurfaced in his dreams. 

Occasionally, he'd receive a text from England, but he never responded. He'd considered blocking him, but he didn't have it in him. Deep down, he craved those tiny snippets of England and didn't want to let them go.

_"No, no, that one switches to numbers and stuff. The button beside it," America directed, pointing at England's new phone's screen._

_He tapped the icon and the emojis popped up. England gasped. "There's so many of them!"_

_"Yeah. And they have different meaning depending on which ones you use, when you use them, what combinations you make, and how many of them there are. It's like a language, kind of."_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"Well, there are a few different ways to express that something is funny. You can type a capital x and a capital d as a general thing, but I only do that when I'm on my computer or something and I don't have access to emojis."_

_"X and D?"_

_"Mhmm. Type it in," he instructed. "See? It looks like a laughing face but sideways."_

_"No, it doesn't."_

_"Well, that's what it's supposed to be. Okay, you can send a laughing emoji, which is my favorite. Depending on how funny, use one to three of them, maybe four, but no more than that."_

_"Why?"_

_"I don't know. It's just weird. Now, you can say L-O-L, which stands for lots of laughs. A while ago, it used to be used in actual funny situations, but now, if it's by itself, the person definitely doesn't think whatever you said was funny. And if there's a period after? That's very bad. Oh, if you're saying something serious, especially something confrontational, but you want to play it cool, you just have to tack on a 'lol' and it will take some tension out of it."_

_England huffed. "This is all very complicated."_

_"You'll get the hang of it. Now, you can say just 'ha' if someone said something you didn't like. Two 'ha's can be used passive-aggressively or for real. You kind of just have to consider the context. Three of them means whatever was said was funny."_

_"So many rules..."_

_"R-O-F-L stands for roll on the floor laughing. That one's legit. And L-M-A-O is for laughing my ass off. It can be legit or used with something serious."_

_He hit the power button on his new phone and set it down. "This is hard."_

_"Awww, Iggy, it's okay. You'll get it. And if you need help, you know I've got your back."_

_England blushed and mumbled something about being called 'Iggy,' but planted a kiss on America's cheek. "Thank you."_

_"No problem! Next time you're up for a tech lesson, I can teach you about the eggplant emoji and how we can use it."_

_"Huh?"_

_America smirked. "You'll see."_

What was the point in reminiscing? It'd just make a hard situation harder. 

America ended up deciding that he'd stay with Canada. He used to live with his brother before he moved in with England, anyway, so it seemed the most logical option. Besides, he needed emotional support and didn't want to be living alone in a new place at the moment. 

Moving wasn't so hard when he had Canada to help him. In no time, they'd unpacked all of his things into the room that had used to be his and had been a guest room in his absence. 

He topped it all off with hanging up a flag of his that had been in storage above his bed. No matter how defeated he felt, Old Glory still flew, so he'd get through it. 

***

America sat patiently in the car. It was the first world meeting since his break up with England and Canada had agreed to go in first and text him if he was there or not. If so, he'd wait in the car. If not, he could come in.

His phone buzzed and he looked down at the incoming text from his brother that confirmed England's absence. 

Thank god. 

He got out of the car with his bag and locked it before heading inside and sitting down. The chair beside him with a plaque reading, 'United Kingdom- England,' was, just as Canada had said, empty. 

Normally, at meetings, he'd talk to England. He had no idea what he was going to do during Germany's stay-in-your-seat-five-minute-breaks. In the real break for lunch, he'd get to talk to his friends, though, so that was a plus. 

"Let's get started," Germany said. "First off, America. Your economy isn't doing well." 

"Nope. The stock market crashed." 

"I read an article called, 'The Coming End of the American Superpower.'" Cuba announced. "In case anyone was wondering." 

America rolled his eyes. "Sorry, Cuba, I'm not falling apart yet." 

"Yet," China said, "All empires fall, America." 

"Guys, seriously. I'm fine." 

Glances were exchanged around the table and Hungary asked, "Are you sure? There's nothing you want to talk about?" 

Oh. 

"So you all know about England, is that what this is?" 

More uncomfortable looks. 

"Okay, fine, you want to hear what happened? I broke up with him on Wednesday. Things weren't how they should've been and we needed different things, so I moved back in with Canada." 

"Is that why he's not here?" Italy asked. 

"I don't know. Maybe." 

"Did you guys fight?" Belgium pried. 

Portugal leaned over to see America. "What did he do?" 

"Or what did you do?" Asked Belarus. 

"Nothing," America said, not wanting to answer a bunch of questions. 

"Did he cheat on you?" 

"Did you cheat on him?" 

"Did he eat your McDonald's?" 

"Did you finally get fed up with his eyebrows?" 

America scowled at his fellow nations. "Stop it. I'm not going to tell you a bunch about it because it's not just my life, it's his, too, and he doesn't like personal things being public. So if I told you all about it, it would be really inconsiderate. We were together, now we're not, and I'm living with Canada again- so direct any mail you need to send me there. End of story." 

Germany cleared his throat. "America is right and we have work to do. Personal issues shouldn't be on the table right now. The question is- what do you think will happen with your stock market? If you crash, we all crash." 

"It'll bounce back and as soon as all of this is over, the economy is going to be great. Once quarantine ends, people will be excited and want to do things, buy crap, go out to eat, stuff like that. It'll be fine. What's next on the agenda?" 

Germany checked his notes. "France, you had something you'd like to talk about- something you wouldn't specify on the schedule." 

The whole room groaned. Everyone knew that meant he was going to talk about something he would have been prevented from discussing if he had written it down.

France scoffed. _"Excusez-moi,_ this is something important. Really!" 

"What is it?" South Korea asked, bracing herself for whatever lewd things he was about to say. 

"We need to think about November and December." 

Japan hummed in confusion. "What about them, _Furansu?"_

"With everyone stuck in quarantine with their significant others and little to do for entertainment, there will likely be an influx in November and December births this year. Now, how that will impact the world, especially with a population surge, is unknown, so I think we should talk about it." 

Mexico raised a brow. "You... Actually made a very good point." 

"I've done my part to prevent over-population," China declared. "This is you guys' problem now." 

"India has the second-largest population," Australia pointed out. 

She crossed her arms defensively. "So what? You want me to make some kind of child policy, like China?" 

"I didn't say that." 

"With 'ow jam-packed yer country is, the lack o' good health care, and poverty, COVID-19 will 'elp with that overpopulation issue," Scotland said, laughing. 

Ireland smacked his arm. "Scotland, that's mean." 

"What? It's true!" 

India glared at him. "We've established curfews for our people to prevent the spread." 

"Fat lot 'a good that 'll do." 

"Scotland!" 

"Well, America's third!" India accused. 

He shrugged. "Yeah, but I have enough land that it's not an issue. Indonesia is fourth." 

She scowled. "Whatever, America." 

Brazil looked around the table. "I'm sixth, so who's fifth?" 

"I am," Pakistan said. "Don't worry. My population is dropping daily thanks to America." 

"We just signed a peace deal!" He protested. 

Germany took control of the situation, shouting, "Stop it! Pointing fingers won't do anything. We'll take an in-seat break for everyone to cool down and then we'll talk about something else." 

Great. Here we go. 

America rested his chin on his palm and started doodling on his paper. If England were here and his, he'd hold his hand under the table because he didn't like PDA, but he still wanted contact. They'd talk about something not work-related, likely dinner, and he'd be happy. 

"You look down." 

America turned his head. The United Arab Emirates sat next to him, and he was smiling at him sympathetically. He wanted to tell him to leave him alone, but he had way more oil, so he had to be polite. 

"I'm fine." 

"It's England, isn't it? You're bored because he's gone."

"No."

"Yes, you are. Because this is the part where you two hold hands thinking no one sees and discuss where to go for dinner." 

Dumbly, America blinked. "Uh, how did you-" 

"I sit right next to you, U.S. Even if you ignore me most of the time and have a tendency to think of middle eastern countries as beneath you, even those with significantly more money and natural resources like me." 

"I don't think you're beneath me." 

"Alright, whatever you say, United States." 

"You can call me America, you know," He told him. "We're friends and seat buddies. And only nations I don't know call me that." 

There was a flicker of a smile on his face. "Then you may call me Arab." 

Germany clapped his hands to get everyone's attention back to the meeting and America smiled. He had a new friend. Maybe this wouldn't be as hellish as he thought. 

***

On the way home, America and Canada went through the McDonald's drive-thru. Canada had gotten a salad, which America thought was hilarious for some reason unbeknownst to him and he was pretty sure that his brother was going to wreck the car. 

"America, pay attention to the road!" 

"I am, don't worry." 

The car swerved. 

"No, you're not, you're eating your burger. Just- pothole!" 

They hit it and it was so deep that Canada felt his soul momentarily leave his body at the violent jerk of the car. 

"Aww," America whined. "I dropped some fries." 

"Oh my god, you're such a- WRONG LANE! WRONG LANE!" 

_"WRONG LANE! WRONG LANE! AMERICA, YOU'RE IN THE RIGHT LANE!" England screamed._

_"Yeah, I know. So?"_

_"No, I mean, right as in- nevermind, just get in the left one!"_

_He looked at him weirdly. "What?"_

_England grabbed the wheel from the passenger's side and whipped the car into the left lane, just in time to avoid honking, oncoming traffic._

_His breathing shook and he pressed a hand to his chest. "Bloody hell. I think I had a heart attack."_

_"Oh, yeah! You guys drive on the wrong side of the road here. Totally forgot," America chimed. "Sorry!"_

_"Sorry? Are you- How do- Really, you- You know what? Nevermind. I don't want to argue. Just... please don't wreck the car."_

_America looked over at him guiltily. "Sorry, England."_

_"It's okay. You forgot. Just please don't do it again or I'll probably have an aneurysm."_

_"Roger that!"_

America pulled the car back into the right lane. "Whoops! Didn't see the double line." 

Canada sunk down in his seat and checked the security of his seatbelt. "We'd walk away from a crash much better off than a human, but I still don't want to get injured. Please stop eating and drive. You can finish the burger at home." 

He huffed and put it back in the to-go bag. "Fine. But I get to pick the movie tonight."

"Deal. Now drive." 

***

America was running late for the world conference. Canada had gone ahead of him at his insistence, so he'd lost track of time. He was in such a rush, he didn't even check his phone. 

They'd worked out a system. Canada went in first to warn him in case England was there. After the second meeting, they agreed that he needed to come no matter what, but he wanted to be mentally prepared. 

Their plan also included before, break, and end procedures to make it as swift, painless, and not-awkward as possible. 

So when America ran into the conference late and spotted England, he did a double-take. 

"Sorry! My alarm didn't go off." He said, sitting down. As soon as he said it, he realized what a bad excuse it was and made eye contact with Canada across the table, who gave him an encouraging smile. 

_"El tonto."_

England glared at the commenter. "Shut up, Mexico." 

America tensed up. He didn't want England to feel obliged to defend him or for him to think that by doing so, he'd get the chance to talk that he'd wanted from America.

"Yeah? You wanna go, _hombre?_ Let's fuckin' go!" 

"England, Mexico, please-" Germany tried. 

England got up. "You sure you want to? Even with such a pathetic economy? I'll crush you."

Mexico copied his actions. "Oh, you've done it now! I'll kill you, you pompous _carajo!"_

America was about to intervene, but Spain jumped in. "Whoa, whoa, everyone, calm down! Mexico, sit down."

"Like hell. Big brother nor not, you're not in charge of me!"

Switzerland raised his hand. "I'm neutral!"

"Well, there's a surprise!" Austria jeered. 

"Leave my big brother alone!" Lithuania cried

Austria laughed. "Awww, I'm so scared! A little girl!"

Denmark slammed a fist onto the table. "What the fuck did you say to Lithuania?"

That was the moment that the meeting dissolved into chaos, nations screaming, hitting each other, and picking sides until Germany restored peace. "Sit. Down. Now. China, you're presenting first. The floor's all yours." 

"Thank you. I have a few announcements to make. First, I have decided to expel American journalists from my country in response to President Trump putting restrictions on the number of Chinese workers that can go to work in the US."

America had been expecting something like that. The moment his boss told him about it, he'd tried to reason with him, but he liked talking and tweeting more than he liked listening. If America were in China's place, he'd probably do the same thing. 

He waved it off. "I understand, China. I'm sorry about that, by the way. It wasn't my idea."

"I know. I'm discussing things with my boss and I'll see what I can do to help you out."

"I will, too."

They'd been communicating better lately. Turns out, if you pay attention and actually contribute at meetings, things are a lot easier and China appreciated his effort. They hadn't fought in... gee, three weeks?

"Things are beginning to go back to normal in my country, but we are facing aggression on a global scale over what President Trump has dubbed the 'Chinese Virus.' Hate crimes against my people are intensifying, especially in the US. I'd like to discuss what will be done to prevent further unwarranted, racist attacks."

Japan nodded. "That's a wonderful point, China. I've noticed the hostility, too."

That was another thing he was struggling with alongside China. He loved his people- he truly did. He'd die for them and he took pride in each of their accomplishments. But there were some that really frustrated him. Among those were the racist people that China was referring to.

He hated the fact that some of his people treated others like that. And they weren't quiet about it, either. They'd scream their bigotry from the rooftops and ended up giving his good citizens a bad reputation because of it.

Hell, if he was in a foreign place, the moment people heard his accent, they did one of three things.

1\. Try to sell him something overpriced. That was most common in southern countries.

2\. Decide they didn't like him, typically with an eye roll and saying to a friend in their language, 'Americans,' which was often followed by a laugh and insult. But he liked seeing the uncomfortable looks on their faces when he responded in whatever language they had just spoken.

3\. The rarest- they didn't care. That was mostly in Canada. 

"Thank you. So? Any ideas? America?"

America sighed. "Many Senators, Congresspeople, and I are spreading anti-xenophobia ideas and advertisement as much as we can, but with a President pushing a racist agenda, it's difficult. I'm really sorry about what's happening and I promise I'm working on it."

After that, many countries presented and none of them had good news to report, unfortunately. During the in-seat breaks, America would immediately turn to the United Arab Emirates and strike up a conversation before England could get his attention. His British gentleman philosophy prevented him from interrupting, so as long as America kept Arab talking until the end of the break, he was okay. Perhaps England would have asked for his attention against his posh code, but he likely thought America was angry and didn't want to upset him more. 

That tugged at his heart. He wasn't angry with England. After that explosive fight, the anger had seeped out of him and he didn't hold any resentment. He just didn't want to deal with the awkwardness and emotional turmoil of an encounter with his ex at work. 

Lunch was the trial by fire. The second Germany dismissed them, America jumped out of his chair, ran to Canada, grabbed his hand, and tugged him out the door. From an outside perspective, it looked like he was eager to eat, which was always true of him and not out of character. And besides, he **was** hungry. 

They returned late so that the meeting had already started, and when it ended, America collected his things. Canada, despite being at the other end of the alphabet and thus the seating arrangement, was over there in the blink of an eye, talking to England so that America could go wait in the car. 

"Am I overreacting?" America asked them when Canada was behind the wheel. 

"About what?" 

"Avoiding England. I don't hate him or anything. But if he starts talking about us, I'm going to cry in the middle of the meeting." 

Canada turned on his blinker and went left. "I don't think so. I wouldn't want to cry at work, either. I'm sure England understands. And, technically, we don't know for sure that he was intending on talking to you at all since he had no chance." 

"Do you think I'm hurting his feelings?" 

They came to a stoplight and Canada pressed the brake. "Maybe. To be honest, you broke his heart when you left. I'm pretty sure that this isn't anywhere near as bad as that." 

America paled. "But- I didn't mean to! I never wanted to hurt him, that wasn't the plan! I just had-" 

"It's okay, 'Mer. You don't have to explain yourself to me. I know your reasoning. Talk to him when you're ready. Don't rush it. If you're not emotionally prepared to speak to him about what happened, or anything in general, you don't have to." 

"I want to. Eventually. Just not yet." 

"And that's okay. Now, what do you want for dinner?" 

Ameria smiled. "Pancakes." 

Canada laughed. "Alright. You know I can never say no to those." 

"Yay!"


	4. Yes, I Promise I Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a conference, America and England talk about their breakup and (you guessed it), they get back together. Who could have seen that one coming?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word count: 1,848
> 
> Estimated read time: 10 minutes
> 
> The quarantine is starting to get to me, guys. I laid on the floor for, like, two hours yesterday. Nothing but USUK/UKUS brings me joy anymore. Also, you have no idea how long I dug through the news to find information not about the coronavirus. 
> 
> Warnings: Language, angst, coronavirus (stay safe)

March 24, 2020

"This is bullshit! I tried to look at world news this morning and the first 47 articles all had to do with corona," Wales informed the world. 

He didn't need to tell them that. They already knew all too well. 

"Yeah, if anyone was curious, Saudi Arabia and I are discussing an accord to be the biggest oil cartel ever. And I'm pretty sure literally none of you knew till now. Just saying," America told them.

Germany gawked. "What? You can't do that! That's not fair!"

"Actually, we can," Saudia Arabia said. "Besides, you have the lowest current virus mortality rate. Who are you to complain about unfair?"

"This is why we need a worldwide day of prayer," The Vatican said. "I've been working on initiating one-" 

"Vatican, shut up, you're not helping anything unless you have testing kits," Romano hissed. "And you're barely a country. Why are you even here?" 

She blanched. "Excuse me, I-" 

Finland hopped out of his seat. "Guess what, everybody? After the annual survey, my people are apparently the overall happiest in the world!" 

Denmark rolled his eyes. "That's great, Fin. Does anyone else have any news to share before we get into the COVID stuff?" 

America shrugged. "We started virtual NASCAR racing." 

"You have got to be kidding me," Mexico laughed. "Virtual racing?" 

"It's better than nothing. Everyone's freaking out without sports." 

Chile raised his hand. "We captured a wild puma. It wandered into the city since there were no people out." 

"A lot of wild animals are doing that," Canada remarked. "We've had a couple bear issues." 

"You all need to tell people that there aren't lions in my cities," Russia interjected. "People keep claiming President Putin released 800 of them to keep people inside." 

"We're having an eagle festival!" Mongolia cheered, throwing up his hands.

"You know what? Nevermind. Let's just talk about the corona," Denmark decided. 

England went first. "Let's start with this. My people are saying their last goodbyes to their families through Facetime. We need to do something." 

"Are you about to close your borders?" France asked. "Because I keep hearing that your government is putting extreme pressure on Britons to come home." 

"Maybe. What's it to you, frog?" 

"I want to know!" 

"I do, too," America said. He turned to look at England for the first time that day. The question warranted it, he supposed. 

England blinked, surprised. This was also the first time they'd spoken since their break up. "Oh. Um, we're not sure, actually. Maybe. We'd like to." 

"What if you can't get everyone back in time?" 

"Well, I doubt we will be able to. But we're urging them to come back as much as possible. What about you? Are you closing any more borders?" 

"We'll probably close the southern one. But flights are still coming in and out and likely will continue to." 

He nodded, swallowing dryly. "I see." 

The table fell silent. Tension and emotion between the two were uncomfortably high, so no one knew what to do. 

Italy saved them. "Pasta!" 

The rest of the meeting didn't go much better than that. 

America still talked to the United Arab Emirates during in-seat breaks and he still went to lunch with Canada, but there was no rush to it anymore. He'd decided that if England wanted to talk to him, he'd let him. 

On the other end, England was wracking his brain for something to say. He'd eventually realized that America likely feared he'd talk about their relationship while at work and that was why he was avoiding him. So he searched for something else to say, but he came up with nothing. 

He'd just talked to him, though. In the meeting. Sure, it was about borders, but that was something. This was proof that they could at least communicate professionally. 

When the meeting ended, England noticed that Canada left without America, who packed his things slowly and finished up a conversation with Japan. 

_"Don't get your hopes up,"_ he told himself. But he readied slower as well, just in case. 

"That's great. I'll make sure to text you about it," America said to Japan. 

He nodded. "Okay. I'll look forward to it. _Sayonara,_ Ameria." 

"Bye!" 

Japan picked up his bag and left alongside China, and suddenly they were alone. 

England could feel sweat slicking his palms and worry twist in his gut. This could go really well, or it could go really poorly. 

"Hey. I, uh, I wanted to talk to you," America said, pausing in his packing. 

"Oh?"

"Yeah. That's what you wanted, right?" 

Despite all the nights he had spent staring at the ceiling and thinking about what he would say to him, he had nothing good now. "I- I wouldn't say that, exactly, I've been fine, uh, and, um-" 

"America, this is fixable. I know it is. Can we meet up somewhere and talk?" America recited. He wasn't even looking at his phone. "Hey, I guess you didn't see my last text. I'd like to meet so we can talk about this. You can pick where we go. Even McDonald's and I'll buy. America, please answer me, I want to make things right." 

England's eyes widened. "Y- You didn't block me?" 

"Darling, please. I love you so much, just let me have the chance to show you. I miss you. Dinner?" America continued. "America I swear none of this was my intention, I love you and I always will." 

He was shocked. "I... I thought you blocked my number." 

"I couldn't," America admitted. "But you wanted to talk. So let's talk." 

This was a lot more sudden in real life than it had been in England's head and he didn't feel as prepared. "Oh. Okay. I, um, well, I wanted to apologize. I- I didn't mean to hurt your feelings so much or so often." 

"I know." 

"Okay. Uh, I didn't know that things were as bad as they were. I guess from my perspective maybe something was off, but I had no idea that you felt like... That you felt like I didn't love you. Because that couldn't be further from the truth. And I thought you knew that. So if I was nitpicking or something I thought that we had that backing behind it so it wouldn't hurt you. But we didn't, so now I realize how damaging the things I said probably were." 

"I should have said something sooner." 

"But that's the thing. You did. I just didn't listen. Losing you was the most terrifying possibility in the world to me and so when I thought there may be some threat, I pushed it aside and didn't think about it. I was in denial. But that denial instead of facing the problem head-on is was ended up causing all this." 

He sighed and pushed himself up on the meeting table, legs dangling off. "I brought up my concerns, but I didn't push them. You couldn't have known the severity of things because I treated it like it wasn't that big of a deal. I shouldn't have, but I didn't want to make you upset or cause anything bad to happen." 

"Regardless, I should have paid more attention. And I should have expressed myself better. You know, I keep finding myself thinking about moments we had together when I said something stupid so that I didn't have to be vulnerable about what I was feeling and I just want to punch myself in the face. Because knowing all this now, I see exactly why you were so hurt." He paused to steady his breath and make himself not cry. "I should have told you that I love you all the time. I should have appreciated what I had before it was gone. And I should have been better. You were so good to me, America, and all I was in return was nasty." 

"Not all the time." 

He looked away. "Enough of the time." 

It was very quiet again until America whispered, "I still love you, you know." 

"I still love you, too." 

America's eyes flickered to the floor. "I'm sorry I yelled at you." 

"I'm sorry I gave you reason to." 

"It was an accident." 

"Still." 

Slowly, America got off the table and went over to England, stepping close and hesitantly turning his head so that he could look into the teary green of his eyes. "I'm sorry I left." 

England's heart skipped a beat. He wasn't really... was he? 

"What do you mean?" 

"I mean... I want to come home." 

England nearly choked on air. "If you're messing around, then-" 

"I'm not." And the sincerity in his eyes killed any doubt. 

As if that wasn't enough, he brushed some of England's hair back and leaned in, murmuring, "That is... if you'll let me." 

He nodded a tiny bit. "Y- Yes, of course." 

America was coming closer, closer, closer, until England felt their lips press together and all coherent thoughts were washed away as he kissed back. 

It was desperate, apologetic, and sweet, saying everything that they couldn't put into words and assuring them that they were going to be okay. Whatever happened, happened, and it was in the past now. 

Their lips separated and they leaned their foreheads together, panting, crying a little, and smiling. 

"Thank you," England whispered before kissing him again. 

***

April 30, 2021

"America, we're going to run out of time for breakfast if you don't hurry!" England called, turning the car keys over in his hand. 

His boyfriend rushed out of the bathroom, looking like a mess. "Ready!" 

He shook his head, smiling fondly and fixing his tie. "Not quite, love. There. Come on." 

"Are you driving?" 

"Unless you want to?" 

"Nah, that's cool." 

They loaded into the car, England turning on the ignition and backing out of their driveway carefully before heading down the street for the meeting. 

England sighed in relief. "I think we're going to make it on time. What do you want?" 

He shrugged. "McDonald's, like always, but you don't like that." 

"I'll go." 

"No, let's try IHOP. We both like that. I'll order online so that we can pick it up." 

He smiled. "That sounds good to me." 

"What do you want?" 

"Something with eggs over easy and some hot tea." 

"Sorry, Iggy, but you're going to have to be a bit more specific." 

England hummed. "Some toast would be nice." 

"Oh, wait, I found something. Sausage or bacon?" 

"Sausage." 

"What kind of toast?" 

He turned the car, making a puzzled expression as he did so. "I don't know- toast. Is there a difference?" 

"Whole wheat it is. I'd like you to know that I'm ordering you a combo for senior citizens." 

England laughed. "Yeah, yeah. What are you getting?"

"Fruity Lucky Charms pancakes." 

"What?" 

"Four pancakes with cereal mousse milk, vanilla sauce, Lucky Charms, and purple whipped icing on top! It looks delicious!" 

"Whatever you say." 

America finished ordering and put his phone back in his pocket. "I love pancakes. Not as much as I love you, but I love 'em." 

England smiled. "I love you, too."


End file.
